A Proud Woman
by NERC
Summary: Petunia Evan just wanted her normal sister back. Petunia Dursley wanted to be respected. Being normal, being respected, that's what made her proud. One-shot.
**AN: Written for round three of the Quidditch League Competition.**

 **Prompt, write about Pride have a word count between 2,251 and 2,500.**

 **Final word count, excluding author's notes, is 2,367.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

 ** _WARNING: Contains mentions of child abuse_. If this bothers you for any reason please do not read.**

* * *

Petunia Evans was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud of her marks in school.

She was proud of her talent with gardening.

She prided herself on being an amazing older sister.

She was also proud of her sister.

Little Lily Evans was only a few years younger than Petunia, and yet they were almost inseparable.

Lily was smart enough to keep up with Petunia, but never completely out smart her.

Lily had a lot of good friends that kept her out of trouble.

Petunia had many reasons to be proud of her sister.

Until she met him.

The greasy haired boy from down the street.

He stepped into Lily's life, talking about magic and creatures from fairy tales. Petunia was furious. How dare this random boy fill Lily's head with insane delusions. Lily showed her magic and Petunia swallowed her pride and made a show of being happy for her. 'This isn't fair' Petunia thought, 'Lily is supposed to follow me. If she's not then I'm not a good older sister.'

That thought, more than anything, hurt Petunia's pride.

Days later, it was those thoughts that lead Petunia to write a letter to the Headmaster of the school Lily was going to and begging to be allowed to go.

The entire letter disgusted Petunia. The reason why it was necessary was saddening. The fact that she had to beg made her want to throw up. After all, Petunia Evans was a very proud child and she certainly did not beg.

* * *

Petunia Evans hated a lot of things. Magic and Severus Snape were at the top of that list.

It was his fault that Lily got to go to a magical school. It was his fault she had been reduced to this shameful creature who begs. It hadn't even done her any good. She was told she would not be allowed to attend the school because she didn't have magic.

Petunia Evans was proud of a lot of things.

Her sister was not one of them.

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud of her son.

She was proud of her husband.

She was proud of her house.

She was proud of her garden.

She was proud of the family she made.

Not the one that was given to her.

Petunia Dursley tried to forget completely about her magical sister.

She tried to forget that Lily was married.

She tried to forget that Lily had a son.

For a while, this worked.

Petunia Dursley lived a perfectly respectable life that she was very proud of.

The perfect illusion she built for herself came crashing down when she opened the door to find her nephew in a basket, and a letter that told her of her sister's fate.

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

The fact that her last words to her sister had been hateful ones was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud that she knew all the gossip in the neighborhood.

She was proud that her son had friends.

She was proud her husband had a good job.

She was not proud of her nephew.

He was a burden from the moment she found him on her doorstep.

At least now the boy could work for his keep.

He took care of the garden.

Which meant Petunia received many compliments about how wonderful her flowers were.

He painted the fence.

Which meant that her husband could devote more time to his family and job.

He mowed the grass.

Which meant her son could spend more time making friends.

He cooked.

Which meant she could get that little extra sleep she adored.

Her husband and son hated the boy almost as much as she did.

Her husband was not a violent man.

But that boy made him scream and yell. Sometimes even lash out.

The boy never changed. He remained annoying and pathetic.

Her son made sure the boy had no friends.

It was better that way. No one would be affected by his freakishness.

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

That it took her so long to show the boy his place was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud that her son would be attending a marvellous school come fall.

She was proud that her husband had been promoted at work.

She was proud that she had gained a very respectable reputation amongst the neighborhood ladies.

She was proud that magic had no effect on her life.

Then the first letter arrived.

She knew the boy possessed magic.

She had simply hoped that he would lose it in fear of punishment, after all, freak behavior was punished.

Yet when the first letter arrived, she knew her plan had not worked as she hoped.

They moved the boy upstairs, only to keep attention away from them.

They continued to ignore the letters until her husband snapped and dragged them all out of the house.

The letters kept arriving until at last, he did.

A giant man who would not give them an inch of room for argument.

He told the boy everything she had kept hidden from him and then whisked him away to shop for his things for his freak school.

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

The fact that she was connected to magic was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud of how her son was doing in school.

She was proud that her husband was important enough to have meetings at his house.

She was proud of how she dealt with the boy.

He was up in his room.

The day was going so well.

The meeting was going perfectly.

Then the boy and his freakishness ruined it.

She locked the boy in his room.

Of course his freak friends got him out.

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

The fact that she underestimated the power the freaks had was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud that she could cook.

She was proud that her son spent time with his friends.

She was proud that her husband spent time with his sister.

She was not proud that she raised a freak.

She knew having the boy and his freakishness would be a problem.

She knew he would irritate her husband's sister.

She did not know that the boy was this unstable.

Her husband's sister inflated like a balloon.

The boy grabbed his things and ran from the house.

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

That she'd let the freak get away without punishment was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud of the life she had.

She was proud of the life her husband had.

She was proud of the life's her son had.

She was not proud that she could be threatened.

The fact that the boy had a godfather annoyed her.

Why then was he with her?

She didn't care that the godfather was a murderer.

Honestly the boy should have been with him from the start.

Maybe then he would have learned respect.

Petunia Dursley was proud of lot of things.

That she had to treat the boy kindly was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud of how she had been raised.

She was proud of the way she acted.

And she was not proud that her nephew woke her up.

What kind of fourteen year old had nightmares?

What kind of teenager woke their care takers for no good reason?

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

The fact that she lived with a freak was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud of how she raised her son.

She was proud that he spent time outside.

She was even proud that she could get that boy out of the house.

Of course, he always had to bring problems.

Her poor child had been injured.

The boy used his freak powers.

This was the boy's fault.

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

The fact that owls made her jump was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud of her house.

She was proud of her garden.

She was proud of her lawn.

She was certainly proud that they were going to win the competition.

They would win the All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition.

They even got a vacation out of it.

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

The fact that she believed junk mail was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud that she was respected.

She was proud that she did not cry when she realized it had been a trick.

She was still proud of her lawn, even if there was no competition to win.

She was not proud that she had been tricked.

The boy was gone.

His freak friends must have come.

Of course they did.

This was all there doing.

They were all freaks.

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

Being associated with freaks was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

She was proud that she had managed to live a normal life.

She was proud that she had married a normal man.

She was proud that she had raised a normal son.

She was not proud that she knew Albus Dumbledore.

He showed up at her house.

Uninvited.

With no warning.

Dressed like a freak.

Apparently the boy knew he was coming.

Of course he didn't have enough decency to tell them that.

The things that man said.

How she had been cruel to the boy.

Honestly what did he expect, it was what freaks deserved.

That she had abused her son.

Who was he to say such things, she had does a marvellous job with her son.

Then, as if that were not enough, he lectured them.

He spoke of magic.

In her perfectly normal home.

Petunia Dursley was proud of a lot of things.

The fact that she had once begged this man to be a freak was not one of them.

* * *

Petunia Evans had been proud of a lot of things.

She had been proud of her sister.

Even when she hated her.

She had been proud of her sister's intelligence.

Even when she got jealous.

She had even been proud of her sister's magic.

She had been proud that her sister adapted to a new world.

Petunia Dursley was not proud of how she treated her sister.

Petunia Evans had been proud of a lot of things.

She had been proud of her own grades.

She had been proud of her own achievements.

She had been proud of her mother.

She had been proud of her father.

Petunia Dursley was not proud of the shame she realized she had brought them.

Petunia Dursley had always been proud of a lot of things.

She had been proud of her husband.

She had been proud of his job.

She had been proud every time he got promoted.

She had been proud of her son.

She had been proud that he had so many friends.

She had been proud that he could look after himself.

She had been proud of her house.

Of her garden.

Her lawn.

Petunia Dursley had been proud of a lot of things.

She wasn't anymore.

Petunia Dursley was proud of very few things.

Of course she was proud that her husband had a good job.

Of course she was proud that she was respected.

But more importantly, she was really only proud of two things, people, her boys.

She was proud of her son.

She was proud that he worked harder for better grades.

She was proud that he realized that how she raised him was not how he should act.

She was proud that he had grown up to be a far better person then either her or her husband was.

She was proud of her nephew.

She was proud that he kept fighting.

She was proud that he didn't give up.

She was proud that he didn't let them break his spirit.

She was proud that he didn't let fame get to his head.

She was proud that he always did what he felt was right.

That he fought.

That he tried.

She was proud of who he was.

Caring.

Kind.

Companionate.

She was proud that he had become a man.

Loyal.

Brave.

Strong.

Intelligent.

Petunia Dursley was ashamed about a lot of things.

She was ashamed of how she treated her nephew.

She was ashamed of how she raised to him.

Spoke him.

She was ashamed that she had never taken care of him.

She was ashamed that she had never let herself be proud for him.

She was ashamed that she had told him that he was a freak.

Useless.

Pathetic.

She was ashamed that she had let her husband hate him.

Let him beat him.

Yell at him.

She was ashamed that she let her nephew suffer, when she could have stopped it.

She was ashamed that she had let her son pick on him.

She was ashamed that she overlooked every wrong thing her son did.

She was ashamed that she raised her son to be a bully.

She was ashamed that she had been a horrible mother, and an even worse aunt.

Yes, Petunia Dursley was ashamed of a lot of things.

That she had let her fear, and jealousy, of magic take over her life, first with her sister then with her nephew, was at the top of that list.

* * *

 **AN: Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are always kind.**


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